


Would You, Woodfish?

by volee_weva



Category: Harvest Moon: Tree of Tranquility
Genre: Cooking, Feelings Realization, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Rarepair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:14:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24524455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volee_weva/pseuds/volee_weva
Summary: “I hear that there’s a fish in the Harvest Goddess pond.” Toby had brought up once, between bites of shark fin stew. “The Woodfish. It’s supposedly a delicacy. Packed with lots of rich flavor.”Chase scoffed, “I’ve heard of it. That kind of fish is either too good to be true, or it’s too elusive to be caught.”The angler tilted his head, “What would you do, if you had one to cook with?”Chase slid some garlic into a pan. “Probably the most shining herb fish possible. Or a bouillabaisse.” He paused. “But it’s stupid to think about. Making something with Woodfish is a fantasy no chef dreams of ever achieving.”_____Toby catches a fish, Chase cooks a dish, and feelings are discussed.
Relationships: Chase | Chihaya/Toby | Tao (Harvest Moon)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	Would You, Woodfish?

**Author's Note:**

> The first of what we're calling the Quarantine Challenge. The prompt was Something Old. So, let's throw back to arguably the best Harvest Moon game. And the rarest of pairs.

Every morning, before the island would rise and wake, Toby would come into the restaurant before they opened. This was usually while Chase was still pinning his hair back and washing his hands. Toby would bring in the catch of the morning. It was convenient, having a direct supplier of all the seafood the cook would need, and it especially helped with planning the daily specials. 

Toby would sit at the bar while he prepped meals, commenting occasionally. At first, Chase was not at all a fan of the disruption of his morning quiet time, but, soon, the white haired man became part of his routine, and his suggestion for a squeeze of lemon on a fish he was searing was welcomed instead of ignored. The occasional comments moved to full blown conversations about fish, about recipes, and legendary big Kahunas. 

Chase appreciated getting Toby’s opinion on the new recipes he tried. He was always honest, but in a way that didn’t feel condescending. The cook winced when he thought about how standoffish he had been before he had gotten to know Toby— he would apologize, but he was too prideful, and he knew Toby wouldn’t accept it. 

“I hear that there’s a fish in the Harvest Goddess pond.” Toby had brought up once, between bites of shark fin stew. “The Woodfish. It’s supposedly a delicacy. Packed with lots of rich flavor.”

Chase scoffed. “I’ve heard of it. That kind of fish is either too good to be true, or it’s too elusive to be caught.”

The angler tilted his head. “What would you do, if you had one to cook with?”

Chase slid some garlic into a pan. “Probably the most shining herb fish possible. Or a bouillabaisse.” He paused. “But it’s stupid to think about. Making something with Woodfish is a fantasy no chef dreams of ever achieving.”

The conversation had lulled there, moving more into Toby’s thoughts on the stew.

Chase had been looking forward to this morning, though. He had gotten up early, made a quick breakfast of toast with an orange marmalade spread, and got himself ready for Toby’s arrival. He pulled his hair back, putting each pin in carefully, to make his pink mop look Devil-May-care. He washed his hands, his eyes instinctively flicking to the door. Toby was usually here by now. But, maybe he overslept. Or got caught up at the lighthouse. Something understandable and totally not anxiety inducing.

Chase busied himself with meal prep. He made the numerous juices he knew would be necessary for the day (Angela always picked up a tomato juice on her way to the Town Hall), he chopped vegetables, and frosted cakes. After he did everything he needed to, and the sun poked further into the windows of the restaurant, Chase began to worry. Toby had never been this late before. Something had to be wrong. His hands twitched as he diced pineapple. His mind was everywhere, and he nearly dropped his knife when he heard the front door open. 

“Where have you been? You’re never this—“ Chase started, but stopped when it wasn’t Toby who snuck into his restaurant. Angela smiled at him, and he knew he visibly deflated. 

“Angela. You’re early.” He said. 

“Yeah.” She smiled. “I’m not here for tomato juice, though.”

“So, what are you here for?” He busied his hands again as she made her way to the bar.

Angela pulled a small bundle of ocean fish from her rucksack and laid them on the counter. “I’ve got a delivery and a message for you.”

“Oh?” Chase set his knife into the sink, eyes fixed on the bundle of fish that was obviously Toby’s handiwork.

She nodded. “I passed Toby on my way back from the Harvest Goddess Spring. He gave me this and wanted me to tell you he’s sorry he couldn’t see you this morning. But, he’s going to make it up to you. He said something about you being the chef to make fantasies come true.”

Chase placed a hand down on the bundle and looked from it to her face, and back to the fish. A terrifying realization hit him as he remembered that easy conversation from weeks ago.

“He’s not. Tell me he’s not trying to bring me a Woodfish.” Chase’s stomach dropped. No one had come down the mountain with a Woodfish in his lifetime. Or ever, he assumed. And now, his friend was taking on the challenge, specifically for him.

“Don’t worry.” Angela laid her hand on top of Chase’s for a brief squeeze. “He’s going to be fine.”

The chef bristled, sliding his hand away as he turned away from her. He didn’t realize his emotions were out on display until that moment. 

“He’s going to pass out from exhaustion.” His voice was flat as he tried to cover the anxiety building within him.

“He had lots of stamina potions.Doctor Jin stocked him up.” Angela said. “I think Toby’s been planning this for a while, Chase.”

Chase whirled around, the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach growing heavier and heavier. “It doesn’t matter how long he’s planned it! He’s going to go up there and work himself to death and it’s all because--” 

He stopped himself before he finished that sentence with a small "of me."

He cleared his throat. “We had talked, and I mentioned that it’s a chef’s dream to cook with one. I didn’t expect him to actually try to catch one.”

The farmer’s eyes softened. “That explains his determination.”

“Determination won’t stop him from getting seriously hurt.” Chase hated how desperate his voice sounded. He coughed.

“Chase, he’s going to be fine. Toby can handle it. He wouldn’t be up there if he didn’t want to be.”

Chase didn’t say anything, not meeting Angela’s eyes. She continued. “Besides, he’s not going to be gone forever. He’s got someone very special who’s worried about him, and I’m certain he doesn’t want to disappoint.”

The chef balled his fists for an extended moment before unclenching them. He hated just how Angela could see right through into his heart. It had taken her a few tries, a few orange themed desserts given as gifts, but, he had found a friend in her, despite her propensity to dragging the emotions he so carefully guarded out into the open.

“You should go.” He said, quietly. “We both have work to do.”

“You’re not wrong there.” She gave a good-natured sigh and turned. “Just promise me you won’t worry too much while he’s gone.”

She waved from the doorway, and Chase gave her a half inspired nod. He had to keep himself busy so he didn’t think about all the ways Toby could die on that mountain, trying to fish an impossible fish.

He shook his head, putting his hands to work filleting the catch Angela left. Maybe Toby’s trip wasn’t because of him after all. Toby was an avid angler. This was probably just him challenging himself. Risking his health and his life up on that mountain for an elusive fish that is supposedly a delicacy in the hands of a talented chef. And how he had made it a point for Angela to tell him about being the chef that makes dreams come true.

He groaned. He wasn’t going to be able to focus on anything but the sense of guilt growing in him.

Thankfully, Chase got through his shift. That’s about all he could say about it. He didn’t perform well, and he didn’t perform poorly. He just existed. His hands worked routinely, but his mind danced from horrific scenario to scenario. Jake didn’t even tell him to stop working. He simply let Chase stay in the kitchen when Hayden and Kathy took over. He automatically began cutting the garnishes for their cocktails.

Chase was so off in his own world, that he didn’t hear the door open, and hear Kathy and Owen move to stabilize the man who stumbled in, a massive lump in the rucksack on his back. It was Hayden’s hand on his shoulder that threw him into reality, and had him turn to see Toby, collapsed in a barstool, bags under his eyes, and the biggest grin on his face.

“Toby,” was all Chase could say.

“Hi, Chase.” His voice was laced with exhaustion. He reached for his bag, “I’m sorry I’m late. I caught you something really great, though.”

Kathy put a hand over Toby’s. “I’ll get it out for ya, hon.” She cooed, and Toby’s eyes fluttered and he murmured a thank you. She gingerly pulled the wrapped package from the bag, laying it on the bar as carefully as possible before she made her way back to Owen and Hayden at the end of the bar.

There was no denying it. Toby had caught him a Woodfish. 

Chase wanted to scream, to tell Toby how reckless that had been, how foolish that was to have gone up there to bring him this fish no one has seen in years, to thank the Goddess he was okay, but all that faded away when he saw Toby open his eyes fully, those dreamy green eyes sparkling. The angler looked at him like he could hang the stars in the sky.

“I’m sure you’re going to make something legendary with this.” The fisherman nodded sagely.

Chase was shaking. “You... you didn’t have to do this.” He mumbled. “You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“I know I didn’t have to... but I wanted to...” Toby yawned, putting an elbow on the bar to prop his head up with his hand. “Get this for you. I want you to make... the best fish ever.” His eyes fluttered closed. “You deserve it, Chase.”

“Not if you’re risking your life for it.” Chase’s voice was cold, making the three workers at the end of the bar shudder. “You could’ve died for this fish.”

“I don’t think... the Harvest Goddess would have let that happen.” Toby mumbled.

Chase scoffed. “And why’s that?”

“Because... she knows I’m...in...” Toby smiled as he murmured and slid further in his seat. He didn’t continue speaking as his head settled and rested on the edge of the bar. The rest of his words, whatever they were, were clouded by the sweet caress of sleep after a long day.

Chase’s heart stopped for a moment, until Toby’s light snores filled the space between them. The cook shook his head, taking the fish in front of him in his hands, and setting it on ice in the refrigerator. He had to make sure this fish was well taken care of before he tended to Toby. He wasn’t going to let that man’s work go to waste. 

After settling the fish in the refrigerator, he turned back to Toby. His cheek was on the bar, lips parted ever so slightly as he snored gently. Chase took a moment just to take in the sight, cataloging the serenity in his mind. He could clearly see how pronounced the bags under his eyes were, against his pale skin. 

This absolute fool, going to such lengths. Despite everything, Chase felt himself smile, a small, almost unnoticeable gesture, as thick affection for Toby swelled within him. Toby was a fool, reckless in his own way, but Chase couldn’t ignore the warmth bubbling within him as he looked at him.

Hayden cleared his throat, and Chase jumped back into reality, his cheeks flushed and heart stammering. 

“Chase, I know you were worried about him, but he's fine. You don’t have to worry anymore— ” 

“Get a room ready for him.” He interrupted him, hyper focused on the floor tiles. “Toby needs to stay here tonight. He’s in no shape to go back to the lighthouse. And he doesn’t need to sleep on the bar.”

Hayden blinked, before slowly nodding. He leaned back, looking across the dining room to the inn side. 

“Jake.” He said, and the man at the hotel’s front desk closed his book, and nodded. He picked out a key from the many hanging from the wall.

“He can stay in Room One.” Jake stood up straight, as he always did. 

“Thank you.” He gave a nod as he rounded the corner of the bar to stand at the angler’s side. “We need to get Toby upstairs, so he can rest.”

Toby perked a bit at his name, brows furrowed as he lifted his head groggily. “Hmm?”

Chase softened, a sweet affection twisting in his gut, and before he could stop himself, he laid a hand on Toby’s back. “Bed, Toby. You need to go to sleep in a bed.”

Toby nodded. “Yeah... bed sounds nice.”

He moved to slide himself off the barstool, losing balance in an instant. Chase immediately caught him, his hand sliding easily around his waist, resting right above the hip. The angler was warm against him, all hard muscle and the scent of salt and sweat strong. Toby probably could also use a shower. But, sleep was what he needed, first and foremost. 

"Hey, hey, be careful!" The chef chided, a palpable softness in his voice. He didn’t dare look up at his coworkers’ prying eyes, to see their shock at his tone.

He was too preoccupied with his own heart pounding in his chest. There was a burning affection rumbling within him that he knew he needed to ignore. He had only just realized what a deep love he had for Toby, one that had grown without his knowledge, slowly, with every morning meeting. A friendship caught on fire, left to simmer until Chase was ready to acknowledge this fluttering feeling inside.

A love he knew he couldn’t indulge.

Toby didn't belong with him, and Chase knew it. Toby would end up falling for someone much kinder and less callous than he was, someone who would sweep him away from their morning chats, and he just had to live with that. But, for today, he supposed he could be selfish, and hold Toby close for the briefest moment. 

He shifted, bringing Toby's arm to sling over his shoulders. Toby leaned entirely into him for support, his head lolling onto Chase's shoulder. His short, light hair brushed against the nape of his neck, igniting Chase's skin with nervous prickles. 

His fingers flexed against the top of the fisherman's hipbone. "Come on, Toby." He managed to walk them both over and up the stairs to the first landing before Toby's brows furrowed. He let out a small noise of discomfort. 

"You okay?" Chase murmured.

Toby nodded, "M'alright. It's just..." A low chuckle passed his lips. "I'm tired."

"I know." He pressed his lips together, into a flat line. Guilt washed over him, because Toby was only this run-down because of a fish, a fish for him. "Just a little bit more, Then you can rest."

Toby nodded, nuzzling against Chase's shoulder gently. Chase shivered at the touch. Now that he realized just how badly he had it for him, every little movement Toby made sent electricity through his nerves. He shook his head, because he absolutely couldn’t dwell on this. He had to focus on the stairs. 

He got them up a step, step by step, right on to the landing. The door to Room One was already open. Chase nudged the light switch, and the room came to life. Simple, quaint, with faint yellow walls and standard furniture pieces. He brought him to the edge of the bed and lowered him down gently, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. Toby made a pleased little noise as he almost sunk into the pillows and mattress. 

Chase smirked. “Comfy?”

The angler nodded, a dopey smile across his face. Chase’s heart seized, and he stood quickly.

“I’ll get you some blankets.” He said, crossing the room to the closet. He pulled a few extra afghans and turned back to the bed. 

Toby was sprawled out, almost like a starfish, the sound of his snore filling the room with the gentle noise. Chase gripped the blankets in his hands and smiled. He unfurled some, laying them over Toby with the utmost care and precision, so as not to wake him. 

Chase stepped away towards the door, taking one moment to glance back at just how cozy Toby looked. He let the freshly realized feeling of love he had for him burn inside him and he turned the light offs.

\---

The next morning, Chase knew exactly what he wanted to make. He was starting his sauce, the aroma filling the empty dining room as the early morning sun poured in through the windows. His heart may be racketing in his chest, but he kept working. He needed to make this the best meal he could muster. 

He lost himself in the meal, only being brought out of the zone when the time came to begin filleting the fish. He opened the refrigerator and pulled the wrapped Woodfish out. It almost radiated in his hands, which Chase knew was ridiculous, but, his heart was racketing in his chest just thinking about Toby again. He took a deep breath, and made quick work of it.

As he lay the last fillet on the frying pan, he heard the sound of footsteps down the stairs.

“Smells good.” 

Chase glanced up at Toby, who leaned against the banister as he made his way down the steps. The angler was sluggish in the early morning, but he was smiling so brilliantly as he approached the bar. Chase stopped and watched as he slid into a barstool with an intense attention, just to make sure he was able to sit on his own.

“You’re up early.” He murmured. 

“I couldn’t sleep.” Toby smiled at him, rubbing the crust of sleep from the corner of his eye. “When I could smell you were cooking down here. I didn’t want to miss you two days in a row.”

Chase’s heart swelled up into his throat, and he turned back to the fish. “You have to promise me you’ll take it easy today.” He grunted.

“I can promise that.” Toby rested his cheek on his hand. “So long as I get the first bite of Woodfish you’ve cooked up.”

Chase’s hands faltered only slightly as he drizzled lemon over the fillet in the pan. He rolled his eyes affectionately as he glanced over his shoulder.

“I think you’ve earned the right.” He scoffed.

Chase reached into the fridge and plated a neat vegetable side to the fish, drizzling it with the sauce simmering on the stove top. Not to toot his own horn, but, the meal looked positively stunning. He turned and set the plate before Toby, who sat himself up with a languid grace that Chase knew he had always noticed, but never let his brain synthesize.

“Bon appetit.” Chase murmured. 

Chase watched expectantly as he took the first bite and Toby melted into it. His eyes cracked open, and they were sparkling. 

He took another bite of fish, loading the fork up and sighing into the dish before meeting the chef’s eyes.

“Chase,” His name on his lips was a whispered praise. “I had no doubt that you would make an amazing dish, but, I had no idea it would be this good.” 

“You don’t have to flatter me like that, Toby.” Chase tried his best to look cross, but he couldn’t help but smile as the warmth bubbling in his chest flowed to the tips of his fingers. 

Toby loaded up another forkful, took a bite, and waggled his empty fork towards Chase. “I don’t have to, but, you should get all the praise in the world.” 

Chase’s heart pounded. “Yeah, you can say whatever you want. That doesn’t mean it was smart for you to nearly get yourself killed to get that fish.” 

A silence fell between them, the only sound being the gentle scraping of the fork on the plate. 

Chase couldn’t bear to look him in the eye. He had always been a coward, but, here, he was afraid of letting too much show through. 

“Chase, I wasn’t going to die.” Toby said, the pleasant lilt in his voice gone flat. 

“None of us knew that.” Chase gritted his teeth as his mind raced with anxiety. “You know the stories of people being foolish and angering the Goddess.” Was his desperation to hide his feelings to keep their friendship going to ruin it anyways? 

“Yes, but, I asked her if it was okay, and she said yes.” Toby nodded sagely. “The Harvest Goddess is pretty relaxed about things when they’re about…” He let his words trail off, making Chase turn back to face him.

There was a dusting of pink across his cheeks, contrasting against his stark white hair. He had a small fist over his mouth as he cleared his throat. Chase could feel his heart rattling against his rib cage. He made his way across the kitchen to stand in front of Toby. The only thing that stood between them was the counter that he rested his hands on.

“About what, Toby?” He whispered, almost afraid to ask. Sure, he’s heard the stories of the Goddess’s displeasure, but, he’s also heard the stories of benevolence the Goddess would give to new lovers. He didn’t dare let his mind dwell on that too long.

The angler didn’t meet his eyes. “You know, Chase. You’re smart, I’m sure you know.”

Emotion welled in Chase’s throat as hope started to overcome anxiety.

“Say it anyways.” He quietly implored.

Toby gave a small sigh, and he laid a hand over Chase’s. “The Harvest Goddess is rather fond of the relationships of humans. So much so, that she’ll bend certain rules for love.” He squeezed his hand at the last word, sparking the rush of electricity in Chase’s blood. 

The fisherman continued. “And, well, I wanted to confess in a little bit of a special way, Chase. So, I prayed and the Harvest Goddess invited me up to the mountain to catch you a Woodfish.” 

Chase was still staring. A smile was creeping across his lips because, of course. Not even the Harvest Goddess could say no when Toby asked politely. Honestly, Chase knew if Toby asked for a star, he would go himself to the top of Ganache Mountain and pluck one from the sky for him. And things were starting to click into place, and he gulped.

“You went and got me this fish…” He spoke slowly, each word rich with thought, “Because you love me?” 

Toby smiled. “I do, Chase. I really do love you.” 

Chase let out a shaky laugh, his smile full across his face. He turned his hand over to take Toby’s, and he brought that hand to his lips for the briefest kiss against the knuckles. 

“Toby, I…” He laughed again, his happiness exuding with every little hiccup. “Toby, I think I love you--”

“Chase.” Toby said as he looked behind the chef’s shoulder. “Your fish--” 

Then Chase smelled it-- the thick stink of charred meat filled his kitchen, and he jolted away from Toby to turn back to the destroyed fish. Chase felt his skin prickle with annoyance at the waste of food while he quickly took it from the burner. This was all due to his negligence, but the fisherman’s laugh behind him dispelled all of it, and Chase turned back around to Toby. He was grinning with rosy cheeks and his eyes wide and sparkling. 

Chase rolled his eyes affectionately. “I hope you love me enough to share your breakfast.”

Toby chuckled and nodded. “I think I could do that.” He picked up a forkful of fish and held it out. “Now, open up.”


End file.
